Fourth Wall
by VultoTeu
Summary: When Carol Aird finds herself in the middle of a professional disaster. While doing everything to repair it, the image of a young actress awakens feelings that she never imagined to feel again. A dip in one of her most intense and painful stories, promises, in addition to reliving her past, transforming her entire future. Is Aird ready to revive it?


**New York**

 **Smoke Rings — Les Paul, Mary Ford**

The sky began to be dominated by the yellowish color, making the light pink hide between the blue immensity and the sun appears among the clouds. It was the awakening, not only of the day, but also of all the daydreams that took place in Carol Aird's mind. Appreciating the dawn, it was a ritual she could almost always accomplish, she loved the way that the celestial movement inspired her creations.

Satisfied with the beautiful image that stretched across the Brooklyn Bridge through her window, she let her lips sip the warm, strong, bitter liquid from her mug as she turned her gaze into the room. She scrutinized each detail of the body stretched out in her white sheets; it was slender, but definite. The gaze followed the curve of the spine until it was lost in the tissue that curled its hip and returned to appear skin in the turned legs.

A wicked smile was formed in her lips as she realized she wanted to enjoy her bed a little bit more that morning. But to control her desires, she took another sip of her coffee before lighting her cigarette. She blamed Debbie for making her smoke at the moment, but either it was tobacco or more hours of hot sex in that bed.

With her naked body wrapped in a delicate hobby, her blond hair falling in great curls around her shoulders, she approached the woman and, in a sweet voice, called her.

— Honey? — Adjusted the black wires falling on her face, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. — It's time to go.

— Hmm. — Debbie murmured, thrusting her face into the pillow and stretching every muscle in her body. — Come back to bed, Carol. — The sleepy, drawn-out voice drew a sincere laugh from the blonde, who had returned to the window, but still watched the brunette wake up.

— I fear coming back and not having the strength to get out of it. — Swallowed, releasing the smoke slowly.

A smile was formed on Debbie's lips, an act that was far from Aird's intent eyes. Turning on the bed and showing her breasts, she searched for Carol's blue, almost gray, eyes. There was a natural sensuality in that woman; the way she stood erect as she smoked her cigarette, the look of a predator, the low, hoarse voice that churned every lump of her body, and the movement hot as the hell of her lips as they opened in a mischievous smile.

— Carol... — She pleaded guiltily, but rolled her eyes at the sight of the blonde arching her eyebrows — Shit, Carol. — She sighed in defeat —We'd try to be different, remember?

— Some things never change. — The blonde replied before taking another sip of her coffee.

— I hate you.

A satisfied smile left Carol Aird's lips as she stood and mumbled a few things as she headed for the bathroom. She liked the strong personality of Debbie Ocean, in an elegant and sarcastic way; she especially liked the abused and intimate form that she acted in her presence. Buts he realized that she did not like the idea of trying something more, that they had decided together the night before.

When the brunette left the bathroom wrapped in the towel, her gaze immediately crossed with the blonde figure, still propped up in the window. She might feel angry for trying something firmer with Carol and the woman kicking her out like all mornings, but she could not.

A smile appeared on those fleshy lips, sarcastic and amusing, and Debbie rolled her eyes, unable to hold her laughter. It was okay. Among them, everything was always well. Carol was just like her, cruel and lonely, and this was not a problem at all.

— This heartburn is killing me. — Carol grumbled.

— Maybe if you stop drinking coffee with an empty stomach, it would get better. — She looked accusingly at the mug in the hands of her several-nights affair.

— Okay, mom.

Miss Ocean was in her jeans, heeled boot, black shirt and a long gray overcoat; her smooth, moist hair fell in a perfect contour across the face of strong and beautiful features; and her serious expression completed the woman's seductive look. Every detail was appreciated by Carol, who did not hide her satisfaction at seeing her so beautiful and powerful in front of her.

— Do you want to fuck your mother, my dear? — Debbie used her snide sarcasm.

Carol stared at her with her crushing gray eyes and for a second, Miss. Ocean almost gave in to her charms.

— I'd say you'd do great in a bank robbery. — She studied her again, swallowing her cigarette sensuously.

Almost. Trying to stay sane, Debbie looked at her in disgust for the act of smoking, but promised not to disturb her with her dissatisfaction any longer.

— I do not have time for your fantasies now, Carol. — Debbie tucked her fingertips under the hair strands, which fell on her face, and straightened. — Satisfy yourself. — Said as she walked to the door.

— I'll call you when I'm almost there.

Regardless of the irony and debauchery in Carol's voice, Debbie put her dark glasses on her face and left without a word. The blonde sighed, relieved that she was simply alone and could enjoy a good shower before going on for her day.

She liked Debbie, but just not enough. Maybe, she thought, there would never be enough to let someone else stay.

 **The Look — Roxette**

— That makes it difficult to believe in your sexuality, my dear. — With her hoarse and low voice, Carol made her presence noticeable, almost killing Emma with fright – and shame.

— What?! — Emma spat out the last sip of coffee she'd just had.

— Little fool. — She turned to the counter. — An Espresso Con Panna and...

— Extra dose of Espresso. — The brunette behind the counter completed the request, and smiled at the embarrassment of the green eyed blond. — Do not be so bad, Carol, not all of them are like you.

— Maybe you can teach her?! — With her coffee already in hand, Carol took a long sip and watched Emma, the younger blonde's face was reddened.

Regina had a small smile escaping the corner of her lips and, as she took care of another client, let her gaze return to the girl, Carol's frequent companion. The meeting of looks was like a spark, as Emma quickly turned away and drank some more of her coffee.

— Emma, my dear, Regina does not bite. — It made her even more aware to provoke when Emma struggled to keep her gaze away from the barista.

— Can we go now? — Emma said impatiently, wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible.

Carol laughed.

— See you tomorrow, Regina. — She winked at the brunette, who laughed shaking her head. — And do not do anything I would not do. — Clutching her sunglasses on her face, Carol strode toward the street, followed by Emma.

Coffee had become the meeting place of every morning for Carol and Emma. For a while, Carol's hobby was jumping from coffee to coffee, uncovering the hidden delights of Manhattan – but it did not last long. That was how she met _A Taste of Coffee_ that her routine changed, and she could not deny, it was one of the best coffees she had ever tasted. It was not just the drink that made her come back, but the sense of warmth and home that the place had. Run by a family of Puerto Rican origin, the daily conviviality made Carol create an affection for Regina Mills, making it the perfect place to start the day.

It was no wonder that the cafe stood on the opposite of the theater and had Carol run counter to it every day. In fact, Aird cared little for the complexity of things, as long as they added something in her existence and, above all, did not harm her.

All along the way, the silence accompanied them, and Carol, wondering Emma's silence, considered the idea of regretting provoking her. Her gaze darted to the younger blonde's scowl and received the blue-green look of her for a few seconds, before she looked for any other stitch to cling to. Fear, anguish, repressed feelings ... Everything was demonstrated in that sea of eyes. Poor child, when would her be free?

— What do we have today? — Carol asked, and Emma did not even have to open the schedule.

— Casting. You have not picked anyone yet for the role of Claire Broome.

Carol rolled her eyes. — I thought they had already chosen. I do not want you delay the rehearsals... — She rubbed her temples.

— You disapproved the last two actresses... — Emma said, afraid and almost whispering, shutting herself up as Carol's eyes met hers in disgust.

— I know. But it ends today. — She lit another cigarette and took a deep breath, not looking at the youngest. — Talk to Elise, maybe she has someone in mind.

Therese tucked her face into the pillow and howled with anger because it was time to get up. Her four hours of sleep, surely, were not enough to rest her body and mind. It had been more than a month since all her schedules were confused, making her crazy with sleep, irritation and fatigue. And, as much as she knew of the commitment of that day, she ended up giving a few more minutes to the comfort of her bed.

When she felt something warm on her face, she opened her eyes and felt a ray of sunshine lighting her eyes. Her heart quickened and she quickly reached for her cell phone under the pillow. — Shit! — She cursed when she realized that she had exactly 10 minutes to get out of the house.

Her bath was like cat bath. She dressed casually, a pair of jeans, a plain white sweater, and her gray Converse. On her face, just a light lipstick and dark glasses, her long brown strands falling damp from her shoulders. Swiping peanut butter into a loaf of bread and taking juice from the refrigerator, she rushed out of her simple apartment.

— I hate you Therese Belivet! — She crooned to herself. — It was your best chance, and you're fucking it all at once.

Carol was impatient after the twentieth audition, some caught her attention, but nothing that aroused enthusiasm and made sure of a choice. And that was a problem. She watched Swan's apprehensive gaze and Elise's inquisitive eyes glare at her and, taking a deep breath, she drummed her fingers on the table. They wanted a position and the director had none.

— I liked Mulan, I think she would make a good pair with Richard. — Elise confessed, getting up and going to Carol. — I know none of them are to your liking at all, but they are new Carol, we can mold them.

Carol sighed and accepted the cigarette that her friend shared. Her eyes ran through the names on her list with notes she had made, trying to get someone there that stood out and realized that one of them had nothing written. Someone did not show up for the audition and it made her roll her eyes, she hated disengagement.

— I think the Regina would do a good job around here, better than the girls you brought me, Elise Pellerin. — An ironic laugh came out of her throat and her gaze met Emma's green ones, who by simply hearing Miss. Mills name, her whole body stiffened. — Be cool, my love. Regina will not appear here. — She blinked and received an eye-roll from Emma.

— Did I miss something? — Elise's gaze flickered between them, and as Carol was going to make one more of her comments, a flustered girl entered the room.

— Sorry I'm late, I... — Before she could finish, Emma took the opportunity to get away from the chat with Carol and paused in front of the brunette.

— Sorry, Miss...

— Belivet.

— Sorry, Miss Belivet, but the auditions are over.

— Oh, Emma… — Carol said in her husky, elongated voice, causing Therese's spine to chill as she looked up at the imposing woman sitting behind a simple wooden table. — Let her.

Surprised, Elise and Swan exchanged a wary look, but decided not to discuss such behavior as the art director. They both knew that delays were unacceptable to Carol, in any situation, it was an eliminatory point – provided there was a good reason. And in that case, no explanation Carol demanded, just had her move on.

Maybe it was the urgency with which she needed to decide her cast, maybe it was the name that jumped from the list every time she looked at it. She was curious about her name, curious to remember Abby saying, _"I'll send you one of my girls, Carol. I think you will like her."_ Abby knew the good taste of her friend for starters, and as much as there was a rivalry between the other off-Broadway directors, Abby was different. There was a nice, fun friendship.

 **The Court — Carter Burwell**

The gray eyes did not deviate from Therese's performance for a second, but she was struck by the intensity that the girl placed in interpreting the role. She felt Belivet's strength every time her eyes met, as if there were no fear in assuming her position; did not deviate, did not flee.

But she did not believe that Claire Broome matched the strength that Therese conveyed, it was not the part for her. But she did not want to let her go back into Abby Gerhard's arms and miss the chance to have a great actress in her hands. She liked challenges, and surely that girl would be one of them – starting where to put her.

Carol released the smoke from her cigarette slowly and leaned her body to the chair, feeling a weight on her shoulders and realizing the tension that blanketed her body throughout Therese's audition. It was as if she was stagnant, interrupted her breathing so that the slightest whisper did not interrupt the performance.

The girl was standing in front of the three women, Elise had a small smile on her lips, Emma was satisfied and Carol kept her gaze fixed on the young actress. The tension was almost palpable in that small room and everyone expected a position from the artistic director.

— Call Mulan. — She glanced quickly at Emma. — Claire's role is hers. — Astonished at Carol's choice, Elise and Swan lost their speech and looked at her in astonishment for a plausible explanation.

Aird swallowed her cigarette, reading Therese Belivet's name again on her list, and looked up to observe her once more. She was intrigued by the timid form that she presented herself, unlike her whole performance. She hoped she would say something or even leave. But there she was, standing in front of her, her gaze fixed on hers. She showed apprehension and innocence, she could see behind the mask that it was only a girl and that, at that moment, she was disappointed by not being able to get the paper.

Curious, challenging to understand her.

— What a strange girl you are... — She said in her hoarse voice, a little more serious than usual.

— Why? — She asked casually, as if it were something she always listen to.

Still looking away, as if trying to understand Therese as a whole, she stared once more at the deep, curious eyes of the actress. Carol felt an unknown apprehension, something that stirred inside her and made her look away before saying. — Flung out of space.

Therese felt her core twist and her body stiffen, knew that her delay would result in something negative for Carol Aird. She was surprised to be able to audition, but she did not expect anything that came from the director's fleshy lips. She felt her face burn and knew that the reddish tone accompanied the heat, felt the eyes of the other two women on top of her, but she could not get away from the blonde's predators eyes behind the table.

She thought about apologizing, but for what? Perhaps she was offended at having heard the truth, perhaps because that woman could see her better than herself. Maybe she felt anger at Carol for exposing something she did not even have the courage to admit. Therese Belivet was lost, and looking at those gray eyes, she realized that she had really flung out of space.

Carol laughed, her usual debauchery in her tone and slammed her cigarette in the ashtray. — The role of Isabel Callaghan is yours. — She stood up, grabbing her mug with her still-hot coffee, and left the room.


End file.
